


A Bit of Cheer

by antigrav_vector



Series: 890fifth prompt fills [1]
Category: Avengers (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: 890fifth, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Get Together, Humor, M/M, Mistletoe, hints at current political events
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 19:56:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3086855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antigrav_vector/pseuds/antigrav_vector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>890fifth, round seven: None of the others on the team are in town but Tony, and Steve is moping in his apartment. Well, until he gets a surprising offer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bit of Cheer

**Author's Note:**

> For 890fifth, prompt: http://890fifth.tumblr.com/post/106609637925/890fifth-the-quotes-from-about-a-boy-by-nick
> 
> "It struck him that how you spent Christmas was a message to the world about where you were in life, some indication of how deep of a hole you'd managed to burrow for yourself."
> 
> \------
> 
> With lots of thanks to MusicalLuna for being amazing and helping beta this on super short notice. :D

The Chitauri Invasion had been just over six and a half months ago, Thanksgiving was over, and with it the cheerful traditional dinner. Christmas was looming, and not in a very cheerful way. Steve turned away from his living room window with a grimace. The first signs of winter were appearing in the City: frost lining the edges of the few remaining leaves in Central Park, gaudy decorations in all the shop windows, and grindingly repetitive music on every speaker system that was located in a vaguely public area.

It was going to be the first Christmas he'd ever spent alone. Even during the war, he'd had the Commandoes to keep him company. Now... The only one left was Peggy and she was visibly fading away almost as he watched, time finally catching up to her.

He'd visited her yesterday, and it had made her so happy that he was glad he'd done it, despite the way it had pained him slightly to see her in such a state. It made him ache for the might-have-beens and the missed years, even as he was glad he had this chance to say goodbye.

What he needed was a distraction.

Almost as though someone had been listening in on his thoughts, the phone he'd forgotten in his jacket pocket rang, making him jump. It was probably important. Very few people knew he had a phone, and most of them were affiliated with SHIELD. He put his book aside -- he'd been staring at the same page for ten minutes now, anyway -- and stood, crossing the small apartment to where his jacket hung on a peg beside the door.

Pulling the phone out to determine who was calling didn't reveal much. The number calling was blank and the name simply read 'unknown'. That meant it couldn’t be anyone at SHIELD. He had all of those numbers stored in the phone.

While he hesitated, the phone went silent, the call going to voicemail.

Well, that was that. Steve tucked the phone into his pants pocket this time. If it was important, whoever it was would likely try again or leave a message. He'd check the voicemail later.

Halfway through the short walk back across the apartment to get to his kitchen for a glass of water, the phone rang again; this time though, the ringtone was different -- he hadn't bothered to put anything custom on there -- and after a few notes he recognized the Star Spangled Banner.

The number still read 'unknown', but Steve was fairly sure who it was.

Pressing 'accept', he pinched the bridge of his nose. "What do you want, Stark?"

"What," came the almost-cheerful reply, "no hello?"

Steve could hear the smooth and practiced tone to the words -- Stark's media persona -- and stayed pointedly silent for a long moment. So, to his surprise, did Stark. But the manners that had been trained into him eventually won out. "Hello." The delighted laugh that got, despite the irritated tone Steve could hear in his own voice, made him smirk.

"Anyway. Now that I've out-stubborn-ed you, we can get to the interesting part: Christmas party at Stark Tower. You in?"

That took Steve aback. He hadn't thought they were on good enough terms for--

"Well?" Stark interrupted his thoughts impatiently.

"Alright," he agreed, making the impulsive decision to see where this went. If Stark wasn't sore about anything that had happened, so much the better. "Details?"

"Pepper's organizing it. JARVIS?" There was a slight pause. "December 23rd, 7pm, Stark Tower lobby. If you want, show up a little beforehand and -- damn it! Sorry, Cap, gotta go deal with that." His voice faded in volume with each subsequent word, as though he'd put down the phone and walked hurriedly away from it. "DUM-E, what do you think you're doing with that? No, turn it off. No, you can't weld the--"

The sound cut off there and a smooth English accented voice came on the line. "Our apologies, Captain. If you wish, I will forward the relevant information to your email address."

"Err, sorry, who are you," was all Steve managed, caught between confusion and amusement.

"Ah, of course. I had assumed you were made aware of my existence. I am JARVIS."

He had, but they’d never been introduced.

"So you're Stark's AI?" Steve was sure his surprise showed in his tone. He hadn't expected it to sound so... human.

"I am. And may I say, Captain, that it is a pleasure to formally make your acquaintance."

"I-- Likewise."

"Now. Is it correct to infer that you are currently using your SHIELD email address?"

Reflexively, Steve nodded, then realized the AI couldn't see him. "Yeah."

"Very well. If I may offer a suggestion?" The calm measured tones revealed nothing, except perhaps a hint of humor that Steve was sure his imagination was painting in for him.

Unsure how to respond, Steve cautiously replied, "Sure?"

"Mr. Stark is unlikely to remember to mention this, but the event is black tie. If you do not own anything suitable, I can recommend a few appropriate vendors."

The idea of spending that much on something he was unlikely to wear more than once was far from appealing. Not to mention that getting it fitted usually involved far more pins than was strictly comfortable. "My dress uniform work?"

"While it would be suitably formal, this is a civilian event, Captain, and a number of highly influential guests are expected. No doubt you," there was a subtle emphasis on the pronoun, "could get away with wearing it, but there is the possibility that there would be political ramifications. I would suggest a suit instead."

Oh. That... Was something he hadn't considered. "I see. Thanks for the heads up."

"It is my pleasure, Captain. If you will check your email, I have forwarded a list of vendors in various price ranges. I look forward to meeting you in person."

Without further ado, hell, before he could thank the AI again, the line went dead. Pulling it away from his ear, Steve stared at it for a long moment.

"Huh."

\-------

Three weeks passed, almost unnoticed, and then the Christmas party was suddenly just around the metaphorical corner. Unsure how that much time had passed without dragging by, Steve felt suddenly wrong-footed. He went out, still feeling off balance, and bought a suit, the effort a bit uncharacteristically hurried, due to his leaving it til the last minute.

Showing up at the Tower three days later felt... strange. A lot of the damage that had been done during the Invasion had already been repaired, though signs of the battering it had withstood were still visible here and there. They might linger for a while longer, Steve noted, judging by the damage still untouched on the uppermost floors and the private landing pad.

The lobby itself gleamed, though. Stark had clearly prioritized the repairs to the areas of the tower where his employees spent time, rather than on his living quarters. If what Steve had heard from Natasha was true, he had other residences anyway. But it was surprising. Much more pragmatic and thoughtful than Steve would have expected from the man before the fight against the Chitauri and Stark's suicidally reckless dive through the portal.

Shaking his head to clear it, Steve looked around. He was almost an hour early, possibly in a subconscious attempt to make up for waiting so long to buy the suit. There were plenty of people around, bustling back and forth with tables, chairs, trays, and other less easily identifiable things. Setting up for the event, no doubt.

His phone rang. 'Unknown number'. "Hello?"

JARVIS' voice greeted him. "Good evening, Captain. Mr. Stark is temporarily indisposed, but left orders that you were to be given access to the Tower's private floors, in the meantime. If you would proceed to the elevator furthest left?"

Having nothing better to do, Steve gave in gracefully, walking toward the indicated set of burnished steel double doors, unsurprised when they opened seemingly in response to his physical proximity. "Something tells me that you have your fingers in all of the Tower's electronics," Steve quipped, stepping into the waiting car.

"Mr. Stark finds it quite useful," JARVIS a replied and the elevator began ascending rapidly.

Steve wanted to sigh, trying to convince his stomach he hadn't left it on the ground floor. "I don't doubt that."

Under a minute later, the doors reopened on a vaguely familiar-looking floor. It took him a moment to place it, but it fell into place as Stark's voice rang out above and to his right. "Looks a lot better than it did before, doesn't it? Reindeer Games did a number on the bar."

Steve snorted and turned to face his host, his eyes momentarily caught on the details in his dress that were just casually undone. The tie that hung loose around his neck, the unbuttoned collar, the hastily tied shoes. Giving Stark a lopsided smirk, he answered. "Well, it's not destroyed, I'll give you that."

Tony laughed, a surprised expression briefly appearing. "Nice to see you too, Captain Sarcasm." He walked past Steve to the bar, one end of his tie fluttering against his throat. "Drink?"

Steve shrugged, stepping over to the floor to ceiling windows to look out at the glittering skyline spread out beneath his feet, pleased when his own suit didn't try to strangle him as he did. It was expensive, but it was worth it not to feel hemmed in by his clothing. "Can't get drunk."

Stark was giving him a level look, considering, when Steve turned back to look at him. "That's not what I asked," he retorted, pouring one drink and holding eye contact as he held the bottle poised over a second glass.

To hell with it. Steve nodded. He had no idea what it was, but that didn't matter.

Without another word, Stark poured a second drink and picked it up to offer personally.

They stood in silence for several minutes before Stark spoke again. "I'm glad you're here."

Surprised, Steve tore himself away from his contemplation of the City. "Why?"

"Once you've been to one of these events, you've been to them all, Cap. And a friendly face makes a big difference."

"Stark, I don't--"

The man cut him off. "Tony. We've known each other long enough to dispense with last names."

Steve rolled his eyes, but conceded the point. "Tony, unless this is more of a political event than you led me to believe--"

"It is," Stark, no, Tony, interrupted. "They always are when I'm involved, whether I want it or not. And most of the time, it's 'not'."

With a groan, Steve downed half of his drink. "This isn't what I signed up for. Mission briefing. Now."

Tony laughed at him outright and Steve gave him a mild glare. "Look like you're having fun and don't piss anyone off. I don't think Pepper invited anyone particularly easily offended this year."

"That's not what I asked," Steve returned, a bit more pointedly than he'd meant.

Tony, still looking amused, gave in. "JARVIS? VIPs on the guest list?"

"The top five percent, weighted by delicacy of relationship, is comprised of Mayor de Blasio, the Chief of Police Sanders, Fire Chief O'Reilly, and Oscorp CEO Norman Osborn."

Steve grimaced. "Lovely."

JARVIS sounded vaguely critical as he replied, "no doubt you have already met the majority of them, Captain."

"I have. Most of them are astonishingly narrow-minded about superheroes."

Tony snorted. "That's putting it mildly, but you can ignore them if they try to talk business tonight."

Steve raised an eyebrow at him. "It'd be easier to just avoid them altogether."

"And miss the opportunity to maneuver them under the mistletoe together," Tony returned, incredulous. "I think not."

"You can't be serious."

"Oh but I am. Just picture the scene Osborn would make. It would make the evening news." Tony's glee at the prospect was beyond obvious.

Steve wasn't sure how to feel about the idea. "You do know that that's one of the most foolproof ways to piss them off, right?"

"Exactly, but what can they do about anything as long as we're good sports about it?"

Had... "What?"

"You're okay with it, right? For a good cause?"

Steve resisted the urge to run his hands through his hair. "Tony, you--"

"Come on. I'd say it's for charity, but it isn't, strictly speaking."

"Tony, this is the worst plan--"

"So you don't want to kiss me? Is that it?"

Steve almost couldn't believe his eyes. Tony had looked oddly hurt for a moment before he'd managed to hide it. "Did I say that?"

"So you do want to kiss me?"

"Tony," Steve growled at him, "enough with the word games."

Tony fell silent, eyeing him, and Steve stared right back evenly, taking the moment to think, for all the good that ever did him when Tony was around. The man was terrifyingly good at turning all of Steve's assumptions on their heads and leaving him confused as he'd ever been. Had done it right from the start, right from their first meeting just before the Chitauri Invasion.

And now Steve couldn't stop thinking about kissing him, damn the man. He'd always thought Tony was surprisingly attractive (if impulsive and obsessive about certain things), and therein lay the problem. He didn't mind the idea of liking Tony. Of having the man for a friend. Hell, he'd always been inclined to play both sides of the field, as it were. But having a relationship with him?

That would be problematic on several levels, not the least of which was their respective positions on the team.

Not to mention that he barely knew Tony. Even now, after six months of sporadic, intense interaction for missions and the occasional team building activity as mandated by SHIELD, Steve had yet to have a chance to talk to him outside of 'work'.

Here and now, Steve realized, he hadn't expected Tony to let him think it over. But he _had_.

Tony was as complex a person as Steve had had a chance to meet, on the other hand, and that appealed on a number of levels. He wanted to get to know the man, and not just so that they would work better together on the team.

He nodded, making a decision. Fury could complain, if he wanted. Steve was done denying his curiosity. "Alright."

Tony's face lit up, and something about the transformation made him seem to almost shine from within. It was likely a rare thing, Steve realized, to see him wear that expression.

\-------

Tugging at his collar out of habit and keenly aware of Tony's presence at his shoulder, Steve almost wished he'd said no. Remembering the last time he’d let Tony talk him into anything -- that had been an utter _disaster_ of a press conference -- Steve turned to him and asked, tone dry as he could make it, "why do I let you talk me into these things?"

Tony smirked. "Hell if I know. Come on."

Before Steve could find the words to reply, he was being deftly steered through the door and into the crowd. "Browse the buffet, mingle, talk to people," Tony instructed cheerfully, albeit under his breath, "and be careful. They can smell fear."

With a final clasp of Steve's shoulder, he was gone.

A quick glance around the room revealed a small cluster of tables off in the far corner of the room, near the windows. The center section of the room was left open for those who wanted to mingle, talk, and dance to the music playing just loudly enough to be heard over the murmur of conversation as the mood took them. Off to his left, against the wall, was a long table laden with enormous platters of hors d'oeuvres and other finger foods.

The whole room gave off an atmosphere of glittering jewelry and money. Feeling out of place and awkward, Steve tracked Tony’s progress across the room. He said hello to a couple that were familiar to Steve because of several joint mission briefings -- Dr. Richards and his wife -- before he continued onwards.

He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something in the set of Tony’s shoulders seemed to hint at nervousness. Unfortunately, the lines of Tony’s suit somehow drew the eye downward, emphasising his toned figure and his--

Steve shut his eyes and tried to force down the blush that threatened to turn his neck pink. He had literally no desire to attract attention. A flash of something shiny overhead when he reopened them, in his peripheral vision, distracted him at the right moment, and he looked up. The ceiling of the room was festooned with paper streamers and fancy ornaments, and among them, the promised (threatened?) mistletoe.

An excited feminine squeal of Tony's name rang out somewhere across the room and Steve winced. Tony laughed in response, and Steve couldn’t help himself. He looked over, to see a petite brunette hanging from Tony’s neck, her heels kicked up as he swung her around by the waist, getting a loud happy giggle for his efforts.

Well, that answered one question. Tony had obviously meant the question about kissing him in the abstract. A backup plan, for if he couldn’t convince this lady to do it for him. Something about that thought made a tight knot form in the pit of his stomach. He really shouldn’t be disappointed. The point wasn’t for the two of them to be attached at the hip all evening. He was here as a friendly face and a co-conspirator. Nothing more. Hoping for more would earn him nothing but disappointment. He _knew_ that.

When Tony and his pretty conquest didn’t make a move to do anything but talk, Steve forced himself to look away. It was obvious they’d known each other for a while, and he was starting to feel even more awkward than before. For that matter, despite the fancy suit, he didn’t fit in here, and it was painfully obvious. He had never been very interested in being social or making small talk, and before the Serum, he’d only ever gotten dates when Bucky had somehow managed to arrange them for him. Luckily, none of the single dames at this party had taken it into their heads to try to charm him, and he wasn’t about to question it. He’d learned better than to question good luck on more than one mission where the mere thought had had the power to turn their luck around.

Refocusing on the people around him, Steve realised that everyone he looked at had a smile and a hard drink, or a plate of hors d'oeuvres. And here he was, feeling isolated and oddly relieved that no one had approached him in a misguided attempt to fix that.

Well, no one had recognized him yet. Giving in to the need to have something more concrete to distract himself with, Steve slipped through the people gathered at the buffet table, and began gathering some snacks to keep his hands busy. At least if he was holding something, he wouldn't look like he was just at loose ends.

He quickly grabbed a drink, taking the first thing he saw and not caring what it was, and working his way down the table, picking up one or two of anything that caught his fancy.

Who was he kidding. There was no way Tony would go for him, all jokes and publicity stunts aside.

Before he could stake a claim on a section of wall, Tony reappeared with a stunning redhead in tow. Tony immediately began talking the moment they were at a halfway reasonable conversation distance. "I thought I told you to mingle? This is not mingling."

Steve ignored the commentary. "Who's your friend?"

Tony grinned widely. "This, Cap, is my CEO, Pepper Potts. Pepper, play nice."

That was distinctly not what he'd been expecting to hear. Unsure what the correct protocol was, he ducked his head a bit awkwardly. "Ma'am."

Ms. Potts smiled almost gleefully. "Oh, he has manners. Tony, you should take notes."

Ignoring Tony's put out expression, she slid a hand into the crook of his elbow, making him startle slightly, and steered him gently but insistently towards a small table on the far side of what Steve suspected was a large conference room by day. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you," she added, dropping greetings and smiles like confetti as they walked. Steve could feel the curious stares linger on him and it made the skin between his shoulder blades itch.

Tony belatedly followed until someone forced him to stop and make small talk. Steve couldn’t help but note that it was the same brunette from earlier. She looked absolutely stunning, now that he had a chance to get a good look at her. Curves that filled out the lines of her black gown perfectly, and delicate jewelry that drew the eye to her cleavage and boyishly cut hair. 

"I would say the same," Steve replied, turning his attention back to the conversation and wondering where this was going, "but I can't honestly claim to know anything about you beyond what Tony's told me."

She huffed and tossed her hair over her shoulder baring the skin not covered by the nearly nonexistent -- if elegant -- sleeves of the gown she wore. "Ignore it all. Two thirds of it is made up out of whole cloth and the rest is exaggerated for effect."

Steve raised an amused eyebrow at her. "Then you're not out to find ridiculously convoluted ways to coerce him into doing paperwork and derail his schemes against Osborn and Hammer?"

Ms. Potts laughed, and several people looked curiously in their direction as Pepper released him and settled gracefully into a chair. Steve took the one opposite her. "Well," she replied, broad smile subsiding into an amused smirk, "the thing about the paperwork is true enough. JARVIS is more the first line of defense against the scheming. Actually he's calmed down a lot since the Avengers came together."

None of that was overly surprising, and Steve was about to say something to that effect when she continued, her voice pitched low enough not to carry. "I like you, so you get a warning: he looks up to you. If you hurt him, I'll make sure you feel it too."

Stunned, he stared at her for a moment, and she took the opportunity to stand with a polite smile. "Enjoy the party, Captain."

Before he could find the words to respond, she was gone, immediately in conversation with someone who looked familiar to Steve, though he couldn't place the man. He’d seen him earlier, standing with the brunette that had latched onto Tony, but didn’t have a name to go with the face.

Then Tony was standing at his shoulder offering him a drink. "What was that about, Cap?"

"No idea."

Tony snorted. "Yeah, she's good at that."

“Who’s that Ms. Potts is talking to?”

“What? You mean Dr. Pym? He and his wife are visiting for the holidays. I haven’t seen them in years.”

“His wife?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “I thought you paid attention to the files Fury gave us. Dr. Henry Pym. Biochemist. Really likes ants for no apparent reason. Married to Janet van Dyne. You must have seen her flitting around. Short dark hair, great dress…?”

“The one that more or less tackled you?”

Tony laughed, a surprisingly fond look in his eyes that Steve suddenly wanted for himself. “Yeah. That one.”

A brief oddly comfortable silence fell, and Steve couldn’t help but think about the way Tony had stayed pretty much glued to his side all evening. Sure he’d made a few forays into the crowd, but somehow he kept turning up here like a bad penny. And that didn’t compute. At all. Sure Ms. Potts and Mrs. Pym had all but hung off his arm like they belonged, and now, knowing what he did about them both, Steve could see the close-knit bonds they all had.

It explained the thinly veiled threat from Ms. Potts. Well. To a point. Tony wasn’t interested in him beyond the joke he planned to play tonight. Except as a teammate and possibly a friend, judging by the relatively clear overtures he’d been making all evening. A voice jarred him back out of his thoughts, though, before he could pursue the point.

"Mr. Stark?" Steve and Tony turned to see the mayor had appeared on their left, a champagne flute in one hand.

Steve stood as Tony offered his hand and greeted the tall middle-aged man. "Mr. Mayor. Good to see you."

"I must say, I've been looking forward to tonight, with the recent events." For a moment some of the stress he'd been under showed, before it was masked again with a pleasant smile.

Steve knew he probably looked a bit pinched, himself. The strained relationship between the mayor and the law enforcement union had been all over the news lately. Steve himself thought the whole affair was disgustingly blown out of proportion and liberally laced with political blackmail attempts. The formation of the unions had been a huge deal for a number of professions, even in his time. But to know they were abusing their power was... He forced himself not to think about it.

Tony nodded, replying. "I understand, and I'm glad I could help alleviate the stress of the holidays. This year hasn't been the most peaceful one." Turning to bring Steve into the conversation, he added. "I believe you've met Captain Rogers?"

The mayor brightened. "Once, under less pleasant circumstances. Captain."

Steve huffed, amused. "That's putting it mildly, sir. I'm glad everything worked out."

Before they could continue, though, an aide appeared at the mayor's side. "Mr. Mayor, your family is requesting that you join them for a photo."

"Ah, of course." A calculating expression briefly crossed his features. "Mr. Stark, Captain, I don't suppose you'd be inclined to join us? My daughter is a fan."

Tony turned to Steve with a raised eyebrow. "Cap?"

Steve shrugged. "Why not."

A few blinding camera flashes and six autographs later, Tony deftly extricated them.

Thankfully for Steve's peace of mind, the next half hour was mostly uneventful. Mostly. A tall blonde appeared out of the crowd at one point and unceremoniously dragged Tony out onto the open floor and into a dance. He lingered to watch, amused, as Tony stumbled for a few moments before he found his footing again. The blonde was taller than Tony, and, Steve noted, probably stronger, judging by her smoothly toned muscles. They made a reasonably graceful circuit of the dancefloor, such as it was, finishing the dance with a flourish precisely underneath one of the bunches of mistletoe. Tony turned to her with a wide grin and pointed upwards, getting a raised eyebrow in response.

A long moment later, though, the blonde leaned in, a slightly devilish look in her eyes, and she dipped _Tony_ , making him flail in his surprise, then planting a chaste little kiss on his cheek as she pulled him back up.

Steve couldn’t help the jealousy that provoked in him. Why had Tony hinted and dragged him here, if all he was going to do was flirt with ladies he already knew?

Shaking his head, but smiling, Tony waded back through the crowd to Steve. “So do you know Carol, or do I have to manufacture a meeting?”

Steve would have replied, but at that point they were simultaneously cornered by the police and fire chiefs, both of whom had seen them posing for pictures with the Mayor and his family.

Steve had to expend a bit of effort to keep his expression calm. He liked the Fire Chief, but O'Reilly owed enough favors to Chief of Police Sanders to effectively be in the other man's pocket. Albeit somewhat against his will, in this instance. Steve could see the discomfort in O'Reilly's body language.

Tony slowly and casually started walking, vaguely in the direction of the buffet, then, forcing the two union heads to follow, or give up the conversation. Steve stuck close by Tony's side, making his own affiliation clear without outright stating it.

Distracted as he was by the topic of conversation -- the recent protests and how the Avengers might fit into the role of assisting in keeping order -- and making sure they didn't get maneuvered into agreeing into anything, Steve didn't immediately realize what Tony was up to until he caught Steve's eye and glanced up briefly enough that neither of the union heads noticed.

_Damn it, Tony. No._

Camera flashes started going off, and Steve knew they were doomed to have a media incident. On the far side of the room, Pepper started over, but Steve knew with all his gut instinct that it would be too little too late.

A snicker from a lovely young lady off to their right, caught O'Reilly's attention. When he looked over at her, intending to ask what was funny, she simply pointed at the low-hanging streamers of decorations overhead.

Steve knew what would be there without looking.

O'Reilly looked up and groaned, giving Tony a glare that ought to have scorched his expensive suit. Sanders followed O'Reilly's eyes, and started cursing at Tony under his breath.

By now, pretty much everyone on the room was watching intently. All Tony was doing was looking at the two union heads with a bland smile. Steve could tell that was only serving to wind up Sanders more.

"Well," the young lady prompted them. "Aren't you going to kiss?"

Steve winced. Sanders turned to her and started lecturing her on the evils of homosexuality.

Tuning out the rant, Tony turned to Steve and smiled. "So, Cap, how about it? Feeling open minded?"

Steve rolled his eyes at him but obligingly leaned in. "Putting me on the spot like that isn't nice, Mr. Stark."

Tony didn't hesitate. He grabbed one of Steve's shoulders and put the other hand on his waist, hamming it up for the cameras and dipping Steve as he planted a fairly chaste kiss on him.

The room seemed split roughly down the middle; the younger half cheered, and the rest gasped, shocked. Not so much because of Tony's behavior, Steve suspected, but because he had gone along with the stunt.

Tony pulled him back upright and let Steve straighten his clothing while he gathered up the attention of the cameras so naturally very few people noticed. After letting the photographers have their fun for a good thirty seconds, he flashed them his usual V for Victory, and pulled Steve out of the room just before Pepper could get to them through the crowd that had gathered.

Once they were safely in the elevator, Tony stopped repressing his laughter. "That went well."

Steve could only shake his head. "You know they'll both be on our case after this, right?"

"Worth it."

"Tony, you--"

Steve abruptly broke off, as Tony pulled him back down by the scruff of the neck until they were nose to nose. "Cap, if you don't want this, you'd better tell me now."

Well, if it was gonna be like that…

Without a word, Steve closed the distance between them and kissed Tony the way he'd half hoped Tony would kiss him downstairs. Deeply and at length.

He ignored the sound of the elevator doors sliding open, and an irritated sound from Pepper. She disappeared again a few seconds later, and Steve dismissed her presence. She’d surely be back later, but right now he didn’t care.

Tony had a point. This was worth it.

And this way they could get some political capital out of it, to boot.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [I'll Be Home For Doom's Day (The You Can Count on Doom Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6055455) by [teaberryblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teaberryblue/pseuds/teaberryblue)




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